Twists of Fate
by whalerider
Summary: The sixth year for Hogwarts' students has just begun. The summer has wrought many changes in all of them, some for better- others for worse...especially for the son of one of the Death Eaters- a change that may be his undoing. PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Prologue: Life and Death

Twists of Fate  
  
Prologue: Life and Death  
  
Draco Malfoy muttered, "No, I don't want more Charms, Professor," and turned over in his sleep.   
The door softly swung open, and a shadowed figure quietly strode into the bedroom, wearing black robes and a black mask. The Death Eater raised a wand. "_Lumos_." The room was filled with a pale glow. Draco's eagle owl gave a soft chirp of sleepy protest.  
Draco stirred and opened his eyes.  
Lucius Malfoy quickly whipped off his mask, stuffing it deep into a pocket of his robes. "Sorry to wake you, Draco," he whispered.  
Draco propped himself up on an elbow, squinting in the sudden light of his father's wand. "No problem. What is it?" he yawned, frowning.  
Mr. Malfoy's mind raced as he paused. "I just got an owl from the Ministry," he lied smoothly. "It's urgent, and I need to go in to the office. I was watching the house elves earlier to see that they remembered to put everything in your trunk, and I think I may have left my gloves in here. Have you seen them, Draco?"  
Draco thought for a moment. "No, I haven't. Maybe they're in your pockets?" Draco gave a small shrug. "That's usually where I leave my wand."  
Lucius frowned and reached into his other pocket, perfectly aware of what he would find. His fingers brushed against fine dragonskin and he gave a slight nod. "Right you are." He turned to leave, and the Dark Mark burned into his arm seared with a sudden pain. He turned back to face his son, carefully schooling his face into calm and forcing a worried smile over his grimace. "Draco, I heard you talking in your sleep. Are you all right?"  
"I'm fine, Father. I just keep having odd dreams, that's all."  
Lucius slid open a drawer of Draco's bedside table and removed a small crystal vial. "It's a simple Sleeping Potion. You won't have any odd dreams after you drink this. Here." He handed the vial to Draco, who took a small sip, grimacing at the aftertaste.  
Draco sighed sleepily as the potion began to take effect. He lay back down and fell instantly asleep.  
The Dark Mark began to burn like fire. Lucius clutched his arm, hissing in pain. He raised his wand, trembling, tears running down his face. "_Avada Ke_…my God…I can't do this to my own son…I just can't-aarrgh!" He fell to the floor as his whole body erupted in pain.  
An icy chill knocked him to his stomach, his face pressed against the cold flagstone floor. A high, cold voice spoke from behind him, and Lucius felt warmth trickle from his ears. He pressed his freezing hands to his equally cold ears, moaning. His palms came away slick with blood.  
"I gave you a choice…your son or your wife…I gave you a choice, and you took advantage of my generosity…you have failed me."   
The pain oozing from his every pore intensified sharply, and despite himself, Lucius cried out in pain and fear. "Master! Please!" he screamed. "Have mercy! Please!" he begged, writhing on the floor as the pain continued to build. His frantic pleas fell on deaf ears. He might as well have been speaking to the wind outside Draco's window.  
The voice laughed, high and shrill. "Quiet, you fool! You chose the boy…you told me your loyalty was beyond your petty human feelings…"  
Lucius knew what was coming next, and he pressed his lips firmly together, determined not to give Voldemort the satisfaction of hearing him scream. It did no good.  
"_Crucio_!" Voldemort laughed cruelly as Lucius shrieked in pain.  
Through his haze of pain, Lucius managed to twist his head to look at his son, sleeping peacefully in the bed. _Please_…he thought weakly, _don't let him hear me_… He twitched madly, jerking in spasms of agony on the floor. The pain ceased, and Lucius staggered to his feet. "Please…Master…I can't…please…he's only sixteen…not my son, ple–aarrgh!" The torture resumed, forcing Lucius to his knees.  
Voldemort laughed and flicked his wand, sending Lucius flying into a mirror.  
Lucius moaned as the slivers of glass cut rivulets of blood down his face, neck, and arms. He saw his haunted reflection in one of the larger shards…steel grey eyes that knew death was near…blood running from his ringing ears and broken nose…pale skin stained crimson…his white-blond hair clinging to his face, pasted across his cheeks by sweat and blood…  
Draco dimly heard the shriek of shattering glass, the screams of pain, the cold, high laughs. _I thought I wouldn't have dreams_… He struggled to open his eyes, but the potion dragged him back down into sleep.  
"My Lord!" Lucius gasped. "Please, Master, my son…he has done nothing to deserve this!"  
"Do you think I care about your son?" Voldemort whispered in a deadly voice. "I only care about those select few who can break the necks of Muggles and Mudbloods…those who can spill the blood of wizards _who have disgraced their names_…I would only care for your pathetic son if he could kill his mother…kill you…rid me of a faithless Death Eater such as yourself…"  
"Master, I am only human…please don't ask this of me…my loyalty to you has never wavered. Grant your humble servant mercy…I beg of you…"  
"Your loyalty has _never_ wavered?" Voldemort asked mockingly. "I told you to kill either him or your wife…repentance for running away from my Mark two years ago. During the true test, you fail me yet again…you allow your foolish emotions and sentimental attachments to blind you…you have a soul, Lucius…" Voldemort casually twisted his long hand.  
Lucius felt icy fingers stab his heart, and he fell to his knees, retching. Another slight movement from Voldemort's hand had him bent over double, choking. Blood ran from his mouth to spatter on the stone floor. He looked up one last time at Draco, and his eyes caught a picture in a gilded gold frame…his beautiful wife and the son who always made him swell with pride…Draco would never know how proud he made his father. "Please…be safe…" he whispered, blood spilling from his lips.  
"I have no use for a servant who has a soul," cackled Voldemort.  
Lucius squeezed his eyes shut, knowing in his final moments of life that _this_ was what he should have been fighting for all along- his family. He opened his tortured eyes, tears falling down his once-proud face. The last thing he ever saw was a pair of terrified grey eyes staring, transfixed with horror and shock, into his own.  
…It was too late for apologies…death was coming. A green light rushed. Green met grey…and Lucius crumpled, words on his bloodied lips…"My son…my wife…I love you…I'm sorry…" And with that, Lucius Malfoy died, blood staining his only son's floor…screams of agony contained within the bedroom by magic…stone grey eyes pleading for redemption…a redemption that would never come… 


	2. Chapter 1: Strange New Friends

Chapter 1: Strange New Friends

Aleah sat by herself on the Hogwarts Express, staring out the window at the deep blue sky of the Scottish countryside, high white mares' tails whisking past in the sunny blue atmosphere. She brushed her chocolate-brown hair out of her storm-cloud-blue eyes and sighed. This was her first and only year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Next year, she would leave Europe and return to the Salem Institute of Magic in Massachusetts.  
A girl with bushy, mouse-brown hair skipped into the compartment. "I'm Hermione Granger," she said. "I'm the Gryffindor prefect. Anyways, we're almost at Hogsmeade, so you'd better change into your robes. See you later!" With that, she skipped back out again, bushy hair flying out behind her.  
Aleah carefully opened her trunk and pulled out her robes, the Hogwarts' seal sewn under Salem's, indicating that she was an exchange student. She tugged the black robes over her black and red rose patterned silk shirt and faded denim skirt, smoothing her hair back into place.  
The train chugged to a stop at Hogsmeade Station, and there was a period of general chaos as the students gathered around the doors.  
Aleah slid the door of her compartment open and joined the crowd of students filing off the train. The crowd surged forward, and Aleah found herself pressed shoulder to shoulder with a teenage boy, whose unruly black hair fell into his brilliant green eyes…she gasped. "Hey! Aren't you Harry Potter?" she asked.  
Harry looked up at the sound of his name. "Yeah," he said slowly, "I am. Who are you?"  
Aleah smiled. "I'm Aleah Ingram. I'm the exchange student from Salem. It's _so_ cool to finally meet you in person." She extended a hand, and Harry shook it, grateful that at least _this_ person wasn't staring at him as if he was dangerous.  
Further up in the line, several people heard Draco Malfoy's loud exclamation of "What are _those_?"  
Harry craned his neck to see him pointing at one of the thestrals in disgust. "I wonder who he saw get killed," Harry murmured to Aleah. "These horse-lizards pull the carriages, and you can only see them if you've seen someone die. I was able to see them since last year…"  
Aleah looked calmly at him. "I know," she said simply. "I can see them for myself."  
Harry frowned. "Oh," he said apologetically, "I'm sorry." He paused for a moment, working up his nerve. "Sorry if this is a bit rude, but-"  
The girl cut him off. "-who did I see die?" she finished quietly. "It was my grandma. She was old, that's all. I was only four when she died. The only thing I remember about her is that she would always read to me whenever I visited her house." She climbed gracefully into the carriage and held out a hand to help a nervous-looking third-year inside.  
As the carriages rumbled and bounced up the road to the castle, Harry realized with a sinking heart that he now had to share a carriage with Draco Malfoy. He shot a glance at the pale, blonde boy sitting across from him. Surprisingly, he received no response whatsoever- not even a twitch.  
Draco sat in stony silence, lost deep in his own thoughts. He no longer cared that Harry was staring at him, nor did he offer any comment. Instead, he thought of his father, how he had always been pushed to be perfect, how the only praise he ever received from his father was a grim nod and a "Well done. Try not to disappoint me". Realizing where _those_ thoughts were leading him, Draco sharply berated himself. _Stop it, you jerk_, he admonished. _Your father died because he wouldn't kill you, and this is how you honour his memory?_  
Harry noticed the look of consternation and sorrow that flitted across the Slytherin's face. Summoning every last nerve- and most likely, every last ounce of stupidity- he possessed, he leaned across the dark interior of the carriage. "Malfoy," he asked tentatively, and more than a bit apprehensively. "Are you all right?"  
The response was immediate and explosive. Draco's head snapped up as if he had been slapped. "I'm fine, Potter," he snarled. "Mind your own business."  
The carriages rattled to a stop, and Harry practically threw himself out of the door in his haste to escape the wrath of the young man behind him.  
Harry rejoined Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall, and quickly introduced them to Aleah, who had silently followed him inside, looking around with wide eyes.  
As usual, Professor McGonagall led the first years up to the Sorting Hat. She caught Harry's eye and winked.  
Harry smiled. He was home. _This_ was where he belonged, not Number Four Privet Drive, trapped with his horrible Muggle relatives for his own safety.  
Oddly enough, the Sorting Hat's song was almost the same as the year before. It again warned that if the Houses did not unite from within, they would be destroyed from without.  
Harry only half-listened to Dumbledore's traditional speech to the first-years about the Dark Forest and the rules set up by Mr. Filch. Then, he did a double-take, staring in confusion at the Head table; one seat was empty. Harry snapped out of his hunger-induced stupor. Dumbledore was speaking: "As you may notice, we seem to be missing a teacher. You new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will arrive over the weekend; at the moment, he is making arrangements with the Ministry for this job." Harry looked up sharply as Dumbledore clapped twice, and the food appeared. With a moan of satisfaction,he pulled the fries toward him and dug in.  
Aleah looked around, startled, then grabbed a plate of sandwiches and a jug of pumpkin juice.  
Ron glowered as Draco Malfoy sauntered up to the Gryffindor table, dressed totally in black. He turned in his seat and said, "Oi, Malfoy! Before you go on about Harry's family or have a go at my mum, let me ask you something. Has your father been let out of Azkaban yet? Or didn't you hear that that filth tried to kill me and Harry last year?"  
Draco gave a low growl and grabbed the neck of Ron's robes, hauling him to his feet and whipping out his own wand. Tears filled his eyes. "Don't. You. Ever. Call. My. Father. Filth," he ground out between gritted teeth, the tip of his wand touching Ron's nose.  
"Mister Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said quietly as she marched down form the Head table. "Let go of Mister Weasely's robes, if you please." Raging and fuming, she turned on Ron. "As for you, _Mister Weasley_, I am _appalled_ at your _total lack of control_. I _certainly_ had expected more from a Gryffindor. Therefore, I am deducting ten points. Now, I suggest that the both of you get back to your own Houses." As she returned to the Head table, she gave Draco a look of concerned pity and murmured, "Poor boy. His mother knows this is the only safe place now, but it's only been a day…"  
Draco slunk back to the Slytherin table, looking forlorn and lost.  
Hermione leaned over her plate of turkey, frowning. "Honestly, Ron, sometimes you can be such a thick, insensitive git!" She received a blank look from Harry, and a blank, indignant, and slightly hurt look from Ron. "Didn't either of you read the paper yesterday?" When both boys shook their heads, Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled a day-old _Daily Prophet_ from her bag. She shoved it under Ron's nose, pointing to a large heading:

**SCHOOL GOVERNOR FOUND DEAD  
**  
Ron's jaw dropped, and Hermione pointed to another headliner:

**FORMER DEATH EATER DISCOVERED MURDERED**

A colour-picture showed Ministry officials scrutinizing a room, a bloodied body sprawled on the floor. Ron instantly recognized the corpse's face: pointed and pale, with grey eyes that held, Ron saw as he looked closer, a look of mingled regret, fear, resignation, and anger. "That's Mr. Malfoy!" he whispered, shocked.  
Hermione shushed him and pointed to the largest headline of all, right in the middle of the page:

**BRUTAL KILLING SHOCKS FAMILY, VICTIM FOUND DEAD IN SON'S ROOM**

Harry could have sworn he heard Ron's jaw hit the floor. He began to read:

_Lucius Malfoy, 41, was discovered brutally murdered on the morning of August 30 by his son Draco. Draco said he heard the sounds of breaking glass, screams, and laughing. He mentioned that he heard or saw very little, as he had earlier taken a Sleeping Potion for some troubling dreams. He stated that, "the next morning, I woke up, and my father was lying on the floor near my bed…there was blood everywhere. I yelled for my mother; she came in and started crying. I guess the sounds I heard last night weren't dreams, they were real…" Further tests by the Ministry have revealed the floor, walls, ceiling, and door of the bedroom to have recently been affected by a Silencing Spell, accounting for why other members of the household had no knowledge of the attack until the next morning. Narcissa Malfoy told our_ Daily Prophet _reporter that while the whole family is extremely upset by this tragic event, Draco and his cousin Katherine will be returning to Hogwarts on September 1. "Much though I disagree with Dumbledore and his policies, I admit that the children will be far safer at school than if they were to remain at home. Anyone who would try to harm them would have to go through the enchantments around the castle and deal with all of the teachers before reaching the students." Lucius Malfoy was released from Azkaban last month, having proven to have been under the effects of the Imperius Curse at the time of his arrest in June._

Ron turned very red in the face as he finished reading, his cheeks now matching the flaming red colour of his hair. "Oops," he muttered, mentally kicking himself. "It's like Mum always told me- I'm too much like Bill; always opening my mouth at the wrong time." Hearing a small noise from behind him, he turned. A slender girl, whose long, curly, silvery-blonde hair was tied up in a black ribbon, stood behind him. She was wearing a black linen blouse and black pants under her robes, and her grey eyes and narrow, aristocratic face wore a very miffed and put-out expression. Ron groaned. "Who are you?" he asked, still very embarrassed, but guessing who she was as soon as the question had passed his lips.  
"I'm Draco's cousin," she said coolly, bracing a slender hand on her hip and glaring. "Next time, try thinking about what he had to put up with before you go and insult him. How would you like it if you had a horrible nightmare about your own father being murdered, then woke up to find it was all real?"  
"Oh, and I suppose that you're going to say something about one of us next, are you? Go ahead; what's it going to be- calling Hermione a Mudblood? Telling Harry how rotten his family was? Having a go at my mum and dad? Just to let you know, your dear cousin wore all those out just in our first week here, so please, come up with something we haven't heard before." Ron's temper flared as he recalled all the nasty, spiteful things Draco had said over the past five years.  
"Just because I'm in Slytherin, does that instantly mean that I'm going to say something awful about one of you? You have no idea," she continued softly, "how hard it is to be in our House; the responsibilities, the family name, the traditions, knowing that the Dark Lord could have your closest friends or family kill you at a whim. Try living a day in Draco's life, then you can talk to me about unfair." She spun on her heel and walked back to the Slytherin table with a sniff of disdain.  
Ron went beet red and sank down off the bench, so that only the tips of his hair showed above the table. Harry could hear him mumbling, "I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot…Stupid big mouth…" over and over.  
Hermione glared at her dinner as Ron pulled himself back into his seat. "Nice going, Ronald," she growled, "nice going. _Real_ smooth."  
Ron flushed in embarrassment again, but merely put his head down on the table. He quickly came up again, spitting out mashed potatoes. "Mum's wrong," he declared, "I'm not Bill; I'm turning into Fred and George."  
Harry smiled. This was going to be an interesting year, at the very least.


	3. Chapter 2: Laying Aside Old Grudges

Chapter 2: Laying Aside Old Grudges  
  
_We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.  
The Tempest_  
Draco absently stared at the headstone, the pale words standing out in stark contrast against the polished black marble. _Sleep_, he thought bitterly. _If I had stayed asleep, Dad would still be alive. I wouldn't, of course, but he would_. He became suddenly and acutely aware of the cool fall air, the damp earth, and the blazing sunlight that seemed to defy the events of the past few days. He stood shakily, wiping his face on his sleeve, and grimaced at the sight of the brown dirt and green grass stains covering the knees of his black pants.  
"Are you all right?" questioned a soft voice. A gentle hand rested on his shoulder.  
Draco turned to face his cousin, his eyes red and swollen. She was so unlike him, so different, so…calm. Didn't she care?  
Katherine stepped back a pace. "Be-because Aunt Narcissa s-sent me t-to look for y-you," she stammered, taken aback by his icy glare.  
Draco roughly slapped her hand away. "'All right'?" he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "'All right'?" His voice rose slightly in anger. "_You_ of all people should know I am _not_ 'all right'!" Wheeling, he stumbled away and broke into a dead sprint for the woods.  
He finally stopped out of sheer exhaustion. His neck throbbed in time with his racing pulse. Reaching back, his questing fingers encountered a thin gash and found blood, the gift, no doubt, of one of many brambles. Draco staggered as memory came flooding back: the coppery, sickly-sweet scent of blood, screams of agony, glass shattering, then…nothing. He frowned and looked at the bright crimson staining his fingertips…red. What was it about that colour that disturbed him? Why did he- the dam broke, and Draco remembered that last word before the nothingness: _Obliviate_.  
Suddenly, white skulls with glowing blood-red eyes seemed to be lurking behind every tree. One of them unfolded skeletal limbs under jet robes and advanced, a dark wand held by impossibly long fingers.   
"So, you've finally remembered, have you?" asked a thin, cruel voice. "That's good. Oh, dear," it mocked softly, "I seemed to have frightened you. What to do, what to do? Let me see." The crimson eyes blazed maliciously. "Oh, yes, I know: _Excrucio_."  
The curse hit Draco in the stomach. He doubled over and sank to his knees, a pained and nauseated expression on his sweating face. He dropped to the ground and stayed there, not even able to scream; the pain had stolen all of the air from his lungs. He couldn't move; his muscles had spasmed until they were paralysed. Just as quickly as it had come, the pain was gone.  
"I won't kill you, not yet. You might still be useful, hopefully more so than your father." With an evil smirk, Voldemort was gone, and Draco found himself alone once more in front of his father's grave. He gingerly touched his neck; the cut was gone. He had evidently taken his father's place as a Death Eater.  
"Think again," Draco murmured as his fingers gently traced the chiselled words LUCIUS EDWARD MALFOY. "An eye for an eye; a life for a life."

A/N: sorry for such a short chapter! It was all I could think up in one of my hour-long inspirational moments. BE WARNED: ALL FLAMES WILL BE FED TO MY MUTANT BLACK LAB NAMED LILY, IN ORDER TO MORE FULLY COMPLETE HER ALIENNESS. No, really, I have a half-lab, half-daschund runt.


End file.
